


Real

by glittergrenade



Category: Scarlet Spider (Comics), Spider-Man (Comicverse)
Genre: Angst, Clone love, Clones, Drama, Everybody is a clone, F/M, Romance, Visions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-08
Updated: 2015-05-08
Packaged: 2018-03-29 15:26:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3901351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glittergrenade/pseuds/glittergrenade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter and Gwen are happy, working together and living together — they almost couldn't imagine how it could be better. Apart from how they're both tormented by visions of another life... and not everything even in their real lives is as it seems...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Real

**Author's Note:**

> This randomly came to me and so I wrote it... :)
> 
> (All hail Kaine.)

_"PARKER!!!" …gritted teeth, bulging eyes… "Get me some decent photos of that wall-crawling menace or YOU'RE FIRED!!!!!" …screaming, cheeks puffing like a blowfish out of water._

No. Not that. Switch.

_Big. Gray. Face glistening and reddened from the heat, bowing slightly under the pointed horn. Running. Closer. Closer. No fear._

No. Not that either. Stop it.

_"Hey tiger." Charming smile. Wink, flattering those long dark eyelashes. She's a model. An actress. She's everything. Red hair, tossed over her shoulder. That hair flip is the world. "Face it, tiger, you've hit the jackpot."_

No.

_NO!_

 

Peter Parker didn't want to remember.

The flashes came far too often, especially in his sleep, but he always tried to push them away, and he always tried to avoid them. They weren't all bad, but when he _had_ dared to linger there too long, he had seen too much, too full a scene of what harder he never wanted to see. Now he tried never to listen to the flashes, never give them his time.

If he listened too much after all, what if they all came true? He knew that was a crazy notion, ridiculous honestly, but he couldn't help but feel like it would. They seemed more like memories than imagination already; if he let them take too strong a hold, he was afraid he might start to believe them anyway. He wasn't sure how he'd be able to live with himself if that happened. The flashes were too horrible.

Fortunately they weren't real! They _couldn't_ be. Jolly Jonah yelling in his face? Fighting the Rhino in a sewer? A woman with red hair who called him "tiger" and felt like his lover?! And sometimes… sometimes he saw the Green Goblin. He saw the woman he loved die. He saw himself fail to save her. The flashes all came vivid, and seemed more than just dreams… but he _didn't want to remember_. He'd rather keep living on as usual, same, relatively happy and safe. He loved his life right now, in the cozy apartment he shared with Gwen.

He had a job as a lab assistant at the local collage. He wasn't sure he was technically qualified for that, but the dean didn't mind, and Peter loved it — chemistry was his forte. Best of all, Gwen worked there with him. They made enough to not worry about their rent, and still go out for ice cream every Saturday. Being with Gwen helped him forget the shadows that lingered at his mind, and he was lucky enough to be around Gwen at least 80% of the time.

Peter didn't like to read the newspapers. Well, he _did_ like to do crosswords, and he didn't mind keeping up with what was going on in the world, but it always gave him headaches when articles reported on the superpowered catastrophes in New York. The worst had been that time he had impulsively visited the Daily Bugle website — he still didn't know why — and scrolled through their critical conjectures on Spider-Man. His heart had started to pound and his head gotten dizzy as if he was swinging from a skyscraper.

_Spandex on, but the wind is still refreshing. So fresh. Fresh face. Nimble limbs. Swinging through Manhattan. So fast… so amazing… so free._

 

Speaking of skyscrapers, that was another good reason not to let the flashes linger. Spider-Man. All this about Spider-Man. To be honest, sometimes, Peter didn't know whether he was Spider-Man or not. Well, he obviously wasn't Spider-Man right now, but sometime in the past maybe…? Everything about the wall-crawler felt stingingly familiar to him. Importantly, he _did_ have the sticking-to-walls and super-strength powers, that was a pretty big hint. And honestly, Peter's whole past was a blur to him. He never talked about it, even with Gwen, just as she didn't discuss her past with him either.

He'd had an aunt and and uncle and a best friend, once upon a time. The uncle had taught him "with great power there must also come great responsibility," which he tried to live up to at work, by inventing things that could make the world a better place. But apart from that one saying, his past didn't matter now. And he _knew_ that the the keys to that past could most probably be found in the visions, but if there was truth in those, he wanted no part in it. He _didn't want that life_. Maybe in a past life, he had been Spider-Man. But not here. Not in this world.

For real, though, if he _had_ been Spider-Man once upon a time, it was obvious somebody else had picked up the webs since. Even _he_ 'd been unable to miss the news on the Spider-Man vs Juggernaut battle back during the Avengers vs X-Men wreck, and later Spider-Man's rush to prevent Doctor Octopus from supposedly changing the world, and then Goblin Army vs Spider-Island, and most lately he'd heard of a team-up with Nova and Steve Rogers against an evil Hulk during the whole inversion wreck.

But never mind all that. He didn't like to think about Spider-Man. Right now, all he wanted to do was to cuddle up with Gwen on the couch and watch an old movie. But Gwen was sick, so sick that she'd actually missed work today, which barely ever happened. So he doubted she'd feel up to a movie.

He knocked on the door of their room, and peeped in. Gwen was curled up on the bed, both pillows tucked under her head, as she gazed at something on her phone. Her soft blonde hair spreaded gently around her head and onto the mattress, her legs tangled in the sheets. She tilted her head back as Peter came in, and she clicked off her phone.

"How are you, sweetie?" Peter asked, sitting down beside her and running his fingers through her hair. "Still feeling crappy? Unfortunately for you, science has taught me that germs like to pick on the best of the best!"

She gazed at him in silence for a moment. Then, "Tell me honestly, if you think very hard, do you think I already died?"

_Reaching out with a strand of web… halt. The sound. The sound of a neck snapping. Heart snapping along with it. No. No. No. Don't let that be what it sounded like._

 

What had she said?

 

Silence.

 

Gwendolyn Stacy sometimes wanted to remember. Flashes came to her too, and for a while she had done her best to ignore them, but it hadn't been long till her natural curiosity had gotten the better of her. She loved her current life with Peter, more than anything, and that's why she _needed_ it to be real. After all, what was this all worth if she couldn't be sure? If it might all be fake? If her real life was something totally different, without Peter, yet here she was, obliviously under the impression she was living in love with the man of her dreams?

But it wasn't at all that simple. She loved Peter, and that love she had for Peter was an unarguable fact. So if it wasn't real, she was going to _make_ it real. She needed this never to end, so she had to be certain she knew all that was necessary for that to happen. That was why she'd finally let herself give in to the flashes.

_Party tonight. Party tonight. Why so many reminders? Can't come. Too busy. Collage. Exams. Study. Study._

 

Ouch.

Of course there'd been much more than just flashes of school. From what could be seen in short flashes, it looked to Gwen like glimpses into a full life. A tragic life. A life cut short. She'd seen the funeral of a man who she felt sure must be her father. He'd died bravely, fighting for justice, and he shouldn't have ended up that way, really. She'd had many adventures, Spider-Man-related adventures, and while she hadn't been fond of Spider-Man… she'd always loved Peter.

She forced herself to sit up now. She felt dizzy, lightheaded, and sick to her stomach; but this was important. She looked into her boyfriend's light brown eyes, which were a little wide, as if shocked by her question. But he scooted closer to her on the bed as she added to her previous words, to ask something else: "Peter, are you Spider-Man?"

His eyes grew wider, and she looked away. She shouldn't have asked a stupid question like that, he was going to think she was delirious. And maybe she was, maybe _she had always been_ — what normal human being had dreams, waking dreams, about falling from a bridge and having her neck snapped? But then she heard a thump, and looked up. Peter was standing on the ceiling.

 _Oh my gosh_. Peter was standing on the ceiling. She was right… How had he been keeping that a secret from her?

"Before you jump to any conclusions, I'm not Spider-Man," he said softly, and she believed him. He spared her so much attention, he wouldn't have the time. "I don't know where these powers came from. But I love you, and it's more than time you knew about them." He flipped off and landed back beside her. "Sorry for shaking the bed," he winced, hopping down onto the floor. At least he was sweet. _He cared so much about her_. At least he wasn't Spider-Man. If he _had_ been keeping _that_ from her, she might not have found such a secret so easy to forgive.

"Okay," she sighed. "You're right, it _is_ about time. I assume you didn't want to worry me with your mutations, and that's adorable. Doesn't mean it's good, but it's cute."

Peter nodded cheekily. "Thanks for being patient with me, I really mean it! I don't use my powers. It hurts my brain." He wandered away to gaze out the window. He didn't elaborate on how exactly it hurt his brain, and he didn't bring up Gwen's question about her death. But his eyes seemed to widen as he gazed outside. "Gwen, it could be just me, but there's a really weird mountain where there really shouldn't be one."

At that moment, as if cued by his words, there was a crash.

A figure flew in through the window, shattering glass that went everywhere. Gwen jolted back as a few shards hit the bed, but leaned forwards again an instant after. Peter lay on his back, and a red-and-black costumed figure lay on top of him. Was Peter alright? He had to be alright! Who was this man who had done this? "Get off him!" she yelled, swinging her legs off the side of the bed. Her body felt weak, but she didn't let it show in her voice. "Get out!"

The costumed man stood up slowly, brushing glass off himself. His spandex was torn up, red gashes gleaming from all the rips. The suit was red, with black on the shoulders and head, with red eye shapes on it just like Spider-Man; and the image of a black spider was on his chest. One of the eye shapes was cracked, and Gwen could see his brown human eye widen as he saw her. So confused. So familiar.

Then he looked down at Peter, and furiously started brushing the glass off.

Peter moaned, pushing him away and sitting up, his back against the bed. "You can stop it, I'm okay. But I'm with my girl. Please get out."

The stranger stopped, but he didn't move from his position. "Bro?" he said quietly. "Peter?"

"How do you know his name?" Gwen demanded, standing up. The moment she did that, she knew it was a bad idea, and she collapsed back into the bed again. Also, she wondered, why had he said 'bro'?

"Who are you?" Peter winced, and the man pulled off his mask.

 

Gwen stared at him.

 

The man in the spandex was Peter.

 

Peter Parker stared in shock at the man who stood over him, the same man who had crashed in through the window and ruined a perfectly unterrible day. That same face… it was his _own_. It was grimmer, yes, and the hair was a little shorter, army short, but it looked just as bewildered as he felt. It was a mirror. His reflection.

Or… what if… what if it was his own face which was a mirror of _that_ face? What if it was it was _that_ face which had gone through all the stuff he saw in the flashes? What if _he_ was the reflection? What if… what if he wasn't real?

"Fucking say something!" the Peter in the spandex cried, starting to look distressed. He bit his lip before adding: "I didn't mean to interrupt your goddamn make out session, if that's what the embarrassed silence is about. My name is Kaine."

Make out session?! "I was standing at the window!" Peter protested. "Just looking at the mountain sights!"

"Wundagore the teleporting mountain was more interesting than the super fight going on right outside your window?" Kaine curled his lip.

"I hate super fights," Peter pouted, and he felt Gwen's hand on his shoulder. He clasped it in his own hand, before adding to Kaine, "I suppose you have to go finish it."

Kaine glanced at the window, then shook his head. "Ah, those kids, they're the fucking New Warriors. They can handle themselves. Thanks for the excuse to keep my ass outta theirs for the moment. So…" he paused. "Are you clones?"

 

_Clones?_

The silence was very deep this time. Glances were exchanged between Peter and Gwen.

 _Clones_. Impossible. Only it wasn't. It explained everything, literally everything. Peter wanted to laugh, but his throat felt too dry. So he didn't breathe a chuckle.

 

Further silence.

 

Kaine felt uncomfortable. They _had_ to be clones, it hadn't taken him long after crashing in here to figure _that_ out. Did this mean the Jackal was at work again? Dammit, he _hated_ that guy. Everything horrible in Kaine's life, literally everything, was the Jackal's fault. Sure, so were the rare good things, technically. And Kaine didn't _exactly_ wish he had never been born, but that didn't change the undeniable fact: he sure as hell had more than enough reason to hate the guts of the even bigger monster who'd created him! And he felt for these two clones. Even if they were apparently also dumbfounded idiots. He tried again.

"Knock knock, are there brains in your skulls? Are you clones?"

"I don't know…" the man who looked like Peter whispered. "Am I? A clone of you?"

Kaine had to stifle a laugh. Sure, he allowed himself a slight snicker, but that didn't count. "A clone of Peter Parker, obviously. Like I am. And you," he gestured to the woman who looked like Gwen, "a clone of Gwen Stacy."

"Maybe," she spoke, quickly. Her eyes looked wide, and displayed a mixture between eagerness and misery that made Kaine's heart ache. He understood how that felt. She continued: "I keep seeing things. I keep seeing myself die…"

"It's okay," Kaine assured her, then wished instantly that he hadn't. This was why he shouldn't try to comfort people. He sucked at it. "It's not you that dies, it's the original Gwen Stacy. The shithead who made me, and who presumably made you, has a creepy old guy crush on her, so he likes to clone her. Also Peter Parker, because who doesn't love another Spider-person. How long has it been since you were you born?"

"I don't remember…" the man who looked like Peter said faintly, but his eyes were narrowed. He was thinking hard.

 

_Thinking._

 

_A lab. A dark lab. Water. Waking up. He wasn't supposed to. Thrown out. Alone. Fuzzy brain. Not alone. Gwen Stacy. Never alone._

 

Peter Parker didn't think he was Peter Parker anymore. He'd been afraid of the truth so long, but now he couldn't run from it. And all this now, this was all his fault for trying to hide from it. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry."

"Rule number one: you owe precisely nobody an apology for your existence, let alone me," Kaine looked up at the ceiling. "It's nice to see you're having some kind of a dumbass fucking normal life as nobodies. You deserve at least that. Is she okay?" he pointed at Gwen.

"I'm sick," Gwen told him in a whisper, but she sounded amazed, in a new way, as if something else had dawned on her. "The longer and harder I think about all this, the worse my body feels."

"It's the stress," Peter assumed. This whole ordeal was pretty horrible, but he felt sure it must be worse for her. "I'm sorry, Gwen."

She caressed his cheek. "Kaine is right, Petey, you blame yourself too much. But no. I think it's this. I've had flashes of another life. They make me feel sick. Do you understand what I mean, Peter?"

Kaine butted in with an explanation: "Flashes? They shouldn't necessarily make you sick, but those would be artificial memories, fragmented from the people you were cloned from. How long have you two been living here?" Kaine rephrased his old question. He seemed impatient.

Peter didn't have time for impatience.

"I get it," Peter nodded at Gwen. It felt as if a weight had been lifted off him. He really wasn't alone. Flashes had tormented them _both_. But none of that mattered now. So what if they were clones… it only meant _those flashes weren't them_. They weren't bound by that destiny. They were free!

Gwen smiled faintly at Peter, then looked at Kaine. "Records of us renting this apartment go back to just over a year ago. I checked. Why?"

Kaine took a deep breath as if relived. "So the Jackal's not active. Not necessarily. I had no idea any of the old clones had survived… were living a fucking normal life."

 

_It was amazing._

 

Kaine felt good. He felt really good.

 

He actually smiled, and turned to the window, pulling his mask back on. He was a monster, nothing could change that. He had been _born for misery_. Even his brother Ben Reilly, who'd always had so much optimism, had come to tragedy in the end. But even that wasn't so tragic anymore. He was just glad at least some of them had been _born for happiness_. Remembering that would help him keep on getting on through his lot.

But behind him, he heard a choke, and a thud.

He whirled around. It the Gwen clone, lying on the bed, her lips parted open. Her boyfriend pulled himself up beside her. "Gwen? Gwen!"

Kaine's heart thudded as he remembered what this Gwen had been saying about her sickness. Remembering made it worse. Thinking about "all this" made it worse. Could it be… could it be that, in them in particular, remembering triggered the inevitable? Sped up their decline?

"She's degenerating," Kaine said softly. "I'm sorry, Peter. I wish I were a hero, but… I don't know how to save her."

The other Peter clone let out a sob, burying his face into her neck. "Then so am I. I feel horrible. Faint. Are we going to die?"

"Probably." Kaine sat down on the bed. He wasn't going to lie. Of course, that didn't mean he was going to tell them how terrible he felt himself. He had triggered this. If he hadn't been thrown into this particular apartment by that idiot supervillain, or if he'd at least had the decency not to unmask for them, they might've had longer before their end. They might've lived to see more happiness. "I'll stay here with you," Kaine offered, "till it happens."

 

Peter didn't reply. Neither did Gwen. They just lay there, on the bed, and waited.

 

Gwen Stacy was grateful though. And she wasn't dead yet. "Peter," she managed, and he lifted his head to look at her. His eyes were red and puffy, filled with tears.

"Baby," he whispered.

"I love you," she whispered in return, and he nodded.

"I love you too. I… I'm sorry I didn't realize this sooner. That we were only copies. I'm sorry I tried to ignore the truth. I'm sorry I didn't realize we were dying and I'm sorry I didn't even try to discover a cure. I'm sorry I never let myself see that none of this could ever be real."

" _You are real!_ " interjected a voice that sounded like Peter's but wasn't. Gwen was dimly aware that it must be Kaine.

"Our love is real," she whispered, and Peter smiled at her through his tears.

"Yeah," he whispered back; and he kissed her. Gwen felt his lips on hers, for one last beautiful moment.

She hadn't even started to kiss him back when everything faded to dust.

She was dying. But at least, she mused before the dust faded into the end of her life in this world, if she had to die this way, the sequel to her love story was just beginning, for she and her true love were dying together, in each other's arms.

 

THE END


End file.
